


but the mouth of fools feeds on folly

by lethargicProfessor



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Gen, Manga Spoilers, Mild Spoilers, Yuri Egin (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicProfessor/pseuds/lethargicProfessor
Summary: "The mind of the intelligent seeks knowledge, But the mouth of fools feeds on folly." - Proverbs 15:14Yukio sits at the table, staring at his completed homework while the questions rattle in his head.





	but the mouth of fools feeds on folly

Yukio and Rin are six.

It’s far past midnight, and the only sound Yukio can hear is the distant barking of dogs down the road.

His eyes itch and water – he shouldn’t be awake, they had been put to bed ages ago, but the noise in his head is too loud. He has so many questions, more than usual, and he needs to talk to someone before he explodes.

He turns over on his bed, squinting in the gloom. “Rin?”

Rin doesn’t shift on his bed, and Yukio sighs. His brother usually sleeps like a rock, but Yukio _needs_ to talk to someone. Forfeiting the warmth of his bed, Yukio wiggles out from under the covers and makes his way across the room.

The floors are icy, and he imagines he sees his breath in the cold December air. Spurred by the chill, Yukio dives onto Rin’s bed, scrambling under the covers as Rin whines in confusion.

“Yukio?” Rin asks, half asleep but aware of his brother, rolling over automatically to give him more room. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“No.” The noise in Yukio’s head settles as he takes over half of Rin’s pillow, curling up on his side. He contributes nothing more to the conversation, and Rin hums.

“Do you want to talk?” He ventures, still groggy from his rude awakening.

Yukio does, he wants to tell his brother everything, every question buzzing in his head, but the words get stuck in his mouth, and his tongue feels too big to speak.

He never knows how to bring up their mother and father – their real parents. Every time he asks, he feels like he’s not allowed to know. Rin’s reaction to the conversation is always sullen, and Yukio knows it’s not a subject he likes to talk about.

So he shakes his head and settles in for the night. Rin accepts it, and somehow, Yukio manages to fall asleep to dreams of faceless figures watching over them.

* * *

Rin and Yukio are nine.

Father Fujimoto is making dinner, Rin helping at his side with a surprising amount of dexterity. Yukio sits at the table, staring at his completed homework while the questions rattle in his head.

“Did you know our parents?” Yukio asks. He knows the answer, or one of the many Shiro has told them over the years. Still, he has to ask. Maybe someday Shiro will deem them worthy enough to know the truth.

He sees Rin stiffen at Shiro’s side, and they both turn to look at the only adult in the room.

Shiro continues making dinner like nothing has happened, cheerfully plucking the knife from Rin’s slack grip. “Not at all. I found you in a box under a bridge and brought you home.”

“You’re lying.” Whether it’s because of Yukio’s tone or Rin’s startled cough, Shiro turns off the flames on the range and turns to face them.

He doesn’t seem upset at all, perhaps just a bit curious as he stares at Yukio far more seriously than any adult has before. “Why do you say that, Yukio?”

“You had to have known them.” Yukio isn’t sure where the conviction is coming from, but he knows it deep in his bones, knows it like he knows the monsters outside the monastery seem to cluster near them when they go out.

Rin squirms, looking up at Shiro for guidance.

Shiro tilts his head in thought. “It’s been such a long time, I can’t seem to remember. I’m getting old,” he jokes, turning the range back on. “My memory isn’t as good as it used to be.”

He’s lying, and Yukio knows it, but lets the subject drop, the questions in his head unanswered once again.

* * *

Yukio is twelve, and an exorcist in training when Shiro tells him the truth.

The skies are gloomy, the clouds gunmetal gray, matching his mood as he digests the information Father Fujimoto gave him.

A Father, but certainly not his. Oh no.

He supposes the lies make sense now, knowing that his father was no mortal man, but Satan himself. Shiro still makes no mention of his mother, and judging by the conversation it doesn’t seem like he intends to in the future, but Yukio doesn’t know if he would be able to handle so much information at once.

He has questions, of course, but none seem to form on his tongue.

For a second he thinks, viciously, that surely he wouldn’t want to know more about the woman who would bear Satan’s children, but dismisses the thought as easily as it comes.

He wants to know. He _needs_ to know more, needs to talk to someone about what he’s been told, but again, the words freeze on his tongue.

Shiro explicitly told him Rin isn’t to know the truth, ever, if he can help it.

It’s another secret to keep from Rin, but Yukio doesn’t mind.

The questions fester, but he’s learned to be patient.

* * *

Yukio is thirteen, and his hands shake as he bandages Shiro’s arm.

The mission didn’t go as planned, but as Shiro reminds him once again, they managed to get out in one piece.

The adrenaline’s still rushing through his veins though, and his head feels noisier than usual. He fumbles the butterfly closures in his hands, trying to catch them before they fall back into the first aid kit.

Shiro watches him thoughtfully. “You remind me of her, you know.”

Yukio freezes, his breath catching in his throat as he looks up. He doesn’t know who Shiro’s talking about, exactly – it could be anyone, really, but he hopes and prays it’s who he thinks.

Shiro takes the kit from his hands, nudging Yukio to a chair. “Sit. Rest. I’ll handle the reports, alright? You still have school tomorrow.”

Yukio watches him leave, disappointed but not surprised, and decides all at once that if no one will tell him what he wants, he’ll find it himself.

* * *

(Yukio is fourteen when he finds the records, hidden in between shelves as an afterthought, pages brittle from age. There’s no name, but the more he reads, he knows it has to be her. The files are mostly redacted, painstakingly so, but the mention of an exorcist becoming an apostate bearing Satan’s sons are still more than anyone has ever given him. He steals the book from the library, and feverishly memorizes what little information there is.)

* * *

He stays awake most nights, the noise in his head familiar now as the questions bounce around.

_Who was she? How did it happen? Why did it happen?_

He can’t imagine any scenario with his mother – there’s no image, nothing concrete in his head that he can pinpoint as his mother, and so any what-if he could try to imagine is nothing more than a passing thought.

Rin doesn’t care – hasn’t cared ever, really, and that burning thought stills the questions in his head.

How could he not care? How could he not want to know what happened?

Rin’s dream of killing Satan is all well and good, and Yukio doesn’t particularly care about the goal.

He knows, though, that if Rin does manage it somehow, Yukio will get answers to his questions one way or another.


End file.
